


the last of our religion

by gracedbybattle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Episode: s01e15 Fire Across the Galaxy, Families of Choice, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Pre-Season/Series 03, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracedbybattle/pseuds/gracedbybattle
Summary: Ezra stumbles across Ahsoka and Kanan reminiscing about the past and realizes, for the first time, how much they have lost. (And maybe, how much they still have.)On old masters and the Jedi preference for tea.Pre-season three.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Kanan Jarrus & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 15
Kudos: 176





	the last of our religion

The _Ghost_ is quiet when Ezra wakes, his restless mind and a parched throat overwhelming the urge to crawl back under the covers. It’s still a few hours before sunrise and the ship is almost silent, save for the white noise humming through the vents recycling the ship’s air and Zeb’s soft snores in the bunk below. 

At first, when he was new to the _Ghost_ and still a bit intimidated by the prospect of staying on board Ezra had agonized, in private and occasionally out loud, that Zeb’s snoring would definitely keep him awake at night. 

But after an adjustment period, he’s found that it’s not near as bad as he would have imagined. He would never admit it, but something about it is almost comforting, the knowledge that he’s no longer alone in a cold bed on his own on Lothal. The presence of another being in close proximity is soothing. 

He knows that Hera is down the hall, Zeb below, Sabine across the way, and Kanan next door. The bond with Kanan hums in the back of his mind constantly, a soft, warm presence that assures him he is no longer alone in this world. He has a crew, a family. 

He kicks the duvet off, gingerly maneuvering himself off the top bunk so as not to wake Zeb. The Lasat huffs once and Ezra freezes in place, but his roommate merely sinks down further into his own blanket and stills again. He breathes out a sign of relief and slips from the room. 

He pads softly towards the kitchen area, hopeful that he can slip in for a glass of water without waking anyone else. Force knows they need the rest. They’re coming off a five day op that they ran with Ahsoka and everyone is little drained and beat up. 

The payoff was nice, the supplies for the Rebellion even nicer, but Ezra himself is feeling a little frayed around the edges, too wide, too open from the stress. 

He knows the others are feeling it too, none more so than Kanan, who ran point and got clipped by a blaster for his trouble. The shot had been aimed at Ezra, right as they were loading the last of the fuel tanks on their way out. 

Kanan caught the movement at the last minute and deflected the bolt over his own body. In his haste, he wasn’t as deft as he usually is and the edge caught his back across the shoulder. His shoulder is fine, bandaged in bacta and already healing thanks to their new allies and their abundant resources, but Ezra is still a bit worried. 

The bond between them has only grown since Mustafar and through it he can feel Kanan’s anxieties, his worries and apprehension. He had felt Kanan’s fear in that moment, pure white terror thinking he was about to watch Ezra be cut down in front him, and he’d reacted on little more than instinct.

Even after the fact, Kanan had been more preoccupied with checking on Ezra than letting Hera fuss over him, absentmindedly pushing her hands as though he couldn’t smell his own scorched injury. 

_“Kanan, let me wrap this,” Hera had berated him, concern well melted into frustration._

_“It’s fine,” Kanan repeated, eyes a little wild and protesting more treatment. “Where’s Ezra? What happened-”_

_“Ezra is fine,” Hera cut in. “_ ** _Ezra_ ** _does not have a hole peeking through his shoulder at the moment that he won’t allow anyone to treat, Kanan,_ **_sit still_** _.”_

_“I just need..” Kanan trailed off, frustrated with himself and his inability to articulate exactly what was bothering him. He’d forgotten the furious nature of a deep bond, one that throbbed with his pain. He was attempting to shield his own mind, trying to keep his own pain and concern from transmitting to Ezra, but he could feel his padawan’s feelings seeping through back to him._

_They were caught in a feedback loop, worry and pain between them, and Kanan was too off center to correct it._

_“Ahsoka’s with him, he’s okay.” Hera was watching him, her green eyes scanning his face with too much knowing. She was probably the only one that came close to understanding the bond between them, this invisible thread that tied them together. Kanan had explained it to her before, once or twice, but it was an intangible thing that was hard to describe unless you could feel it._

_She sighed, defeated. “Okay, okay, I’ll get him, if only to keep you still.” She stabbed a finger at him. “Stay right here.”_

_But before Hera could walk out of the hold, Ahsoka appeared at the threshold, Ezra at her side. She smiled at Hera and Kanan’s surprise._

_“Thought you two might want to see each other,” she said, a knowing look on her face. Ezra was more wide eyed than usual, still skittering with adrenaline, hair wild and a new wrap on his left ankle. He wasted no time in making a beeline for his master's side, tucking himself under Kanan’s good arm._

_Kanan wrapped an arm around him in response, a bit unnerved by the uncharacteristic silence, and pressed a hair into the boy's hair with a sigh of relief._

_“Are you okay?”_

_Ezra nodded. “Slipped on my ankle. Ahsoka thinks I might have twisted it, but it’s fine now.”_

_Kanan frowned, gaze raising to fix with Ahsoka’s across the room. She nodded. “Spent a second with the bone knitter and he seems fine. No one else was hurt.” she confirmed. Kanan nodded once at her, a silent thank you between them. Ahsoka smiled back at him and inclined her head in acknowledgment._

_“I think you two should be fine now. Captain Syndulla, I’ll leave them to you and go update Commander Sato,” she said and then she was gone. Hera shook her head, resuming slathering Kanan’s shoulder and muttering something indistinguishable about individuals with common sense while master and padawan sat together, soothing their tumultuous bond._

**_We’re okay_** _, Kanan sent Ezra, over and over again, the panic of the mad scramble out of the Imperial base beginning to fade. Pain was receding in the background, the adrenaline wearing off and the post mission crash was coming, right on schedule._ **_We’re okay._ **

The whole ordeal had been a bit unsettling, and more of a reason than thirst that had Ezra up out of his regular sleep cycle. 

His bond with Kanan was still new to the both of them, a tangible cord that Ezra was struggling to learn to shield. Meditation wasn’t his strongest suit, and shielding had followed that pattern. _Discipline_ , Kanan said he needed. _Mental discipline._ Kanan was more adept at shielding but sorley out of practice, rusty after years of disuse. He’d prescribed paired mediation to them both as a result and for once Ezra had agreed. 

Even now, Ezra reached across his mind to the link with Kanan, just to make sure he was still asleep. He wasn’t surprised to find it lightly shielded, Kanan had been using it to keep Ezra from the pain of his shoulder healing, but he stopped just short of the kitchen as he realized two things at once: that Kanan’s mind was humming with distinct awakeness and there were soft voices coming from around the corner. The voices were just loud enough to be audible. 

“-believe you have this on board,” comes Ahsoka’s soft tenor, quiet and conversational. “I didn’t know you could get it anymore.”

“Special stash,” and that’s Kanan with her, so Ezra hazards a peak around the corner. Kanan and Ahsoka are both sitting in the dejarik booth, hands wrapped around steaming mugs. The smell wafting off them is instantly recognizable. Kanan’s special brew, _his comfort tea_ Hera calls it, the one he brings out when Ezra’s upset or Hera’s frustrated or anyone just has a bad night. 

They both look tired and a little sleep rumpled, but content. Ahsoka has a large shawl around her shoulders than encompasses her like a giant blanket. Kanan is in his sleep clothes, loose dark pants and a black sleep shirt, a few loose strands of his hair fall around his face that have escaped the usual tie.

“Found a supplier out of Gorse once, stockpiled his whole inventory. Hard to find these days.”

The Force feels soft around them, sleepy and warm, and it soothes Ezra’s own insomnia. He prods gently at the bond, soft enough that Kanan will simply think he’s still asleep, and finds his master at ease in his own mind. 

Kanan, ever attentive, immediately sends a wave of reassurance back, but doesn’t seem to notice his padawan is awake and a few paces away. He probably thinks Ezra is still asleep and reaching for him through a dream. It’s happened often enough. 

Ahsoka hums next to him, fingers wrapped around her own mug. They’re sitting close to each other, but not close enough to be touching. Comfortable in each other’s space. It looks like they’ve been here a while, long enough to settle in and for Kanan to brew a pot. 

She blows at the top of her cup, taking a few thoughtful sips. “It was always Obi-Wan’s favorite,” she says. The look in her eyes is sad, a little faraway and wistful. “He liked the dark, spicy stuff best. I think Master Jinn fostered a love of tea onto him.”

“Master Billaba was the same.” Kanan replies easily and _oh_ he’s talking about Depa, Ezra realizes. Depa Billaba, his old master. Kanan rarely ever mentions her and when he does it’s with an undercurrent of grief. Ezra knows the loss weighs on him, he’s admitted as much before, but he’s never heard him talk so openly about it before.

“Obi-Wan was quite fond of Depa,” Ahsoka continues, headless of Ezra’s eavesdropping. It looks like he’s walked right into the two Jedi reminiscing about the past. He knows he should leave because something about this feels private, but he can’t bring himself to yet.

He’s just so eager for information about the past, the Temple, the old Jedi, and Kanan speaks so sparingly of it. His master's silence is driven by grief, Ezra knowsthat, but his own interest is driven by a curiosity he can’t quite stamp out.

There's a small cutout in the wall that lets him see into the kitchen without attracting attention to himself. He takes a second to breathe deep, gather himself and erect a soft shield in his mind to keep himself hidden. He flattens himself against the cool metal of the hallway and listens. 

To his surprise, Kanan smiles as though the memory isn’t quite as painful as before. “Yes, I think they were quite fond of each other,” he says, shaking his head. “Mace and Master Jinn were quite close once too, if I remember correctly.”

“I think they were,” Ahsoka seems lost in her own thoughts. “A lot of Jedi were, at least a lot more than anyone admitted,” she muses and fixes Kanan with a look filled with intent. “You and your padawan are quite close too.” 

“Mhmmm.” Kanan nods, fingers tapping a rhythm against his mug as he takes in his own tea. “It’s so much stronger than I remember. The bond, I mean.”

Ahsoka nods. “I know. I could feel it between you, yesterday. It was quite...prominent.”

Kanan winces at that. “That’s my fault. I haven’t spent the time to teach Ezra shielding like I should. I’d forgotten what it felt like. To be that...connected. I convinced myself after Master Billaba I’d never have that again.” He shakes his head. “It can be overwhelming.”

“It can be,” Ahsoka agrees. Her eyes are focused on the younger Jedi. “But it can also be very rewarding. Anakin-“ she cuts herself off. “ _Master_ _Skywalker_ was the closest thing I had to family for a long time, he and Obi-Wan. Our bond was an extension of that.”

Kanan is staring at her with a mix of understanding and wistfulness. “You must miss him,” he says.

“I do,” Ahsoka replies without a second of hesitance. The honesty in her voice is stark. “You must miss Depa.”

“I do,” Kanan scrubs a hand through his hair. More errant pieces fall around his face, messy and unkempt. It’s the most open Ezra has seen him in a while. 

“I have a family. Here,” Kanan sweeps his good arm to indicate the _Ghost_. “But a Force bond is different,” he struggles for the right words. “We had a special bond, we were very close. She was a good mentor. I wish she were here, to see Ezra, to teach him. She’d be better at this than I am.”

“Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses,” Ahsoka counters. “And I may not be a Jedi, not anymore, but I think you’re doing just fine.”

“I want to be what he needs,” Kanan says softly and it sounds like a confession. This is so far and yet familiar to the afternoon they sat on the ramp, sun setting over the field, _do or do not_ filling the air between them. Ezra presses himself against the side of the ship, desperate to hear just a little better, heart thudding in his chest. 

“You are,” Ahsoka affirms.

“How can you know that?” Kanan asks and his voice sounds so raw, self confidence so bare, almost unrecognizable from the man that teaches Ezra everyday.

Ezra sometimes doubts himself, but he’s never doubted Kanan. He only wants to be worthy of his masters teaching. Kanan is patient, steady, irritated, exasperated, parental. He may not be a perfect, conventional Jedi, but he’s perfect for Ezra. He’s everything Ezra never had and always wanted. 

“I’m so...so attached,” Kanan admits, heedless to Ezra’s thoughts. “Already. I’m so attached to Ezra and it's so strong. I know it’s not traditional-“

“Kanan,” Ahsoka breaks in, bridging the distance between them and laying a hand on his unbandaged shoulder. She smiles at him, soft and knowing. Kanan stares back at her, waiting.

Ezra hasn’t given it much thought before, but it strikes him now, that it must be comforting to Kanan to have another Jedi around, someone to bounce ideas and thoughts off of. Someone to spar and meditate with. 

Someone that understands. 

This is what Kanan is missing, Ezra realizes like a punch to the gut. The Temple, from what he knows, was more than a place. It was a home. It was where the Jedi lived, trained, worked and died. It was where they raised younglings, trained padawans, took their meals and communed with other knights and masters. It was a network, filled with others that understood what it meant to be in tune with and surrounded by the Force. 

Ezra can barely wrap his mind around the concept. He’s spent so much of his life alone, and never around anyone else who understood the gift he has. 

Being around Kanan, even Ahsoka, is like being wrapped in a soft blanket. Their force signatures are comforting to him, purely in their proximity. The thought of being around thousands of others, all familiar and safe from the war that rages outside their door, is overwhelming. 

“The Jedi were not faultless. And they certainly weren’t right about everything.” She sighs, as though steeling herself from something painful. The Force hums around them, sleepy and serune, but a thread of sadness tinges the air. Melancholy. 

“They forbid ‘attachment’ because they thought that attachment, that love, was the path to hate. To the Dark Side. Kanan, they were _wrong_. They failed a lot of Jedi that way. Closing ourselves off from emotion...it isn’t viable. It isn’t healthy. We should feel it, emotion and love. We embrace it and release it to the Force,” she says. 

This all sounds very familiar Ezra thinks, because Kanan repeats the same mantra to him all the time. _Emotion, yet peace,_ he always says. 

Kanan nods in agreement. “The master and padawan bond is proof enough of that.” 

She wrinkles her nose as a thought, maybe a memory, flits across her face. “The bond is a sacred thing, and to break it is a painful thing. Truly the Council was not right about everything.”

“Yes,” Kanan concedes. “And I...I don’t want that for Ezra. I don’t want him to know that kind of pain. I want to protect him from that. But I can’t, not forever. I know that.” Ahsoka nods, but doesn’t interrupt him. She looks pained at the thought. 

“He should have had what we had before,” Kanan continues and Ahsoka squeezes his shoulder in sympathy like she knows what he’s thinking. Kanan seems lost in thought for the moment, like the words are spilling out before he can stop them. His voice is tinged with bitterness. 

“He should have grown up with the other younglings in the Temple. He should have learned to meditate in the room of a Thousand Fountains, like I did. He should have me as a master because it was the right, not because I’m the only one here. He should have had my master, and her master before her. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Ahsoka agrees. She rolls her empty mug through her hands. “Will of the Force,” she mutters and Kanan huffs beside her. They sit in the quiet for a moment before Ahsoka breaks it. 

“He would have been a cute youngling, braid, robes and all.” 

“He would’ve,” Kanan agrees with a small smile at the thought. “And definitely mischievous. Master Windu would have had a time with him.”

Ahsoka laughs outright at that. “Can you imagine?” She wipes at her eyes and the smile on Kanan’s face reaches up to his eyes. “They would have been a riot.”

“Depa would’ve loved him though,” Kanan sobers. “She would’ve taken him under her wing, spoiled him rotten.”

“She would,” Ahsoka agrees. 

“I thought I was the last for so long,” Kanan says and he sounds a little strangled. “That if there was no Temple, no Council, that there were no Jedi left. That when I died, it would die with me.”

He stares at the table for a moment then raises his eyes to meet Ahsoka’s. “I lost my way. I was willing to let it die with me.”

Ahsoka reaches across the distance between them and places a hand on Kanan’s shoulder. “But you’re not. I’m here. It won’t end with us. There’s me, there’s you, and there’s Ezra.”

“There’s Ezra,” Kanan agrees. 

“We’re enough.”

“We have to be.”

“We are.” 

Kanan seems to mull on that for a moment in silence before draining the last of his tea. He rolls his shoulders, cracking his back with the motion while Ahsoka pulls her shawl closer around herself. He gathers their mugs and drops them in the sink, planting his hands on the counter and let’s the silence stretch for a moment. 

“Vader’s still out there.”

“He is.”

“Inquisitors too.”

“They are.”

Kanan raises an eyebrow, a flash of humor returning in his face. “Are you just gonna keep agreeing with me?” he snarks. 

“Oh no,” Ahsoka stands, raising a brow right back at him. There’s an underlying sass there, a spark that Ezra rarely gets to see. Ahsoka seems so principled, so stalwart most of the time. 

He forgets that she’s not as old as she seems. 

“Only when you’re right. I imagine you have Ezra to argue with you about everything else.”

“That I do,” Kanan says and it may be Ezra’s own imagination, but he looks happy at the idea. “You know,” he says with a half apprehensive look towards Ahsoka, like he’s not sure of what he’s going to say next or how she’s going to take it. “If I’ve been keeping up with the calendar lately, it should be Life Day today.” 

The significance of what Kanan’s saying flies straight over Ezra’s head but Ahsoka seems to understand. Her face lights up at the suggestion. “I think you’re right.” She gestures towards the hatch. “Would you join me for the morning sunrise meditation?”

“I’d love to,” Kanan says earnestly. He moves to follow her out of the ship, but Ahsoka pauses. They’re right where Ezra can barely make out what they’re saying. He reaches out, boosting his perception with the Force to catch their last words as their voices echo slightly through the hold. 

“Should we get Ezra too?”

Kanan hesitates a half second. “Not this time. I’ll explain the importance of it to him later. But he’s had a tough week. Let him sleep. We have plenty of time.”

Their footsteps fade and Ezra watches them disappear out of sight, the Force content in his mind, and reaches for Kanan before he can stop himself. His master reaches back immediately, as though he is also on his mind. 

_Go back to sleep_ , Kanan pushes back at him, fond and calm. _I’ll come get you later._

Ezra smiles to himself and pulls himself off his hunch on the wall. Still mindful of the early hour, he tiptoes back to his cabin for a few more minutes of sleep before the _Ghost_ and it’s passengers begin to wake. He can already see the day ahead, Hera frying breakfast before Kanan comes in to take over, Sabine chattering away with Chopper while Zeb grumbles over a cup of caf.

It’s a natural peace, one he wishes they could keep. He might not be able to see the future, but he can see this morning. It’s enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> This dovetailed off of three things:  
> \- Dave Filoni’s twitter post about Kanan and Ahsoka  
> \- “When I am gone, the last of the Jedi you will be,” Yoda to Luke in ROTJ  
> \- A late night conversation with a friend
> 
> I have a lot of FEELINGS about Jedi and tea and I just really miss these guys. #RebelsRemembered


End file.
